Rico: Adventures of a Truffle Dog

1 The Nose

by Laura Martin Bacon

Writer’s Note: When it comes to truffle tales, dogs are among the world’s most eloquent raconteurs. Here’s one of my all-time favorite canine interviews, originally published in the Wild River Review.

There’s something about the forest that brings out the adventurer in every dog – and when you add truffles to the scene, the ultimate companion for woodland discoveries is my canine pal, Rico.

Like many of the world’s great truffle dogs, Rico is a Lagotto Romagnolo – a rare Italian breed that originated with the ancient Etruscans. Rico was born into a distinguished family of truffle hunters in the Sicilian village of Mazara del Vallo, arriving in America as a puppy with a keen nose for exploration.

Like many Sicilians, Rico has a charming talent for storytelling. He agreed to grant this exclusive interview if he could recount the truffle tales in his own words – read on for our question and answer session!

Lagotto Romagnolo Baroque Painting by Guercino

Lagotto Romagnolo Baroque Painting by Guercino

How did you first learn to hunt truffles, Rico?

When I was a tiny puppy in Sicily, the only toy I had was a tartufo (that’s Italian for ‘truffle’) sewn into a cloth bag called a borsa. Mario, my first tartufaio (truffle hunter), started my training by throwing the borsa for me to retrieve – and giving me a treat when I brought it back to him.

When that got really easy, Mario started hiding the borsa so I’d have to search for it with my nose. Next, I learned the secret of being a champion truffle dog: you have to really dig truffles – literally. Now, when I wanted a treat, I had to sniff out the borsa wherever Mario had buried it. He didn’t make it easy, but it turns out I’ve got a great nose and tireless paws.

These days, I’m a truffle hunting pro who travels all over the world – if there’s a truffle (or even truffle spores) anywhere around, you can count on me to bring you the treasure!

Puppyhood Truffle Hunting in Sicily

Puppyhood Truffle Hunting in Sicily

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Dorothy Trepal: Bumps in the Soup – A Slovenian Legacy

Dorothy Trepal's Slovenian Soup with Bumps

by Laura Martin Bacon

My Aunt Dorothy would have been the first to tell you that she wasn’t a cook. It’s what she told me when I asked her to describe the Slovenian recipes I remember her preparing when I was growing up.

But that can’t be right. I know this because, in a long-ago kitchen inside my mind, I can see myself sitting at a speckled Formica table spooning up a fragrant elixir so powerful it could transform even the bleakest day into something good and true.

“What about soup?” I ask my aunt one late-winter morning, when snowdrifts are piled like icy mountains against the windows of her Ohio living room.

“Oh, well, soup,” she says, settling back in her recliner. “That’s not cooking. Everybody makes soup.”

I start to protest, “But they don’t. Almost nobody bothers with homemade soup anymore. Usually, it comes out of a can. Or if they really want to go gourmet, they buy it ready-made from Whole Foods.”

Aunt Dorothy doesn’t reply – she’s fallen fast asleep, a normal occurrence for her these days. Her old body, stricken with a raging infection, is failing fast. I’ve traveled from my home in California to the state where I was born, paying her what the doctors say will likely be a last visit.

My optimism is as incurable as Aunt Dorothy’s illness. My plan is to help her get well by learning to cook her favorite recipes and bringing them to her apartment at the assisted-living facility. Continue reading

Vince Rafello’s S.F. Cioppino: A Vintage Taste of Fisherman’s Wharf

Rafello Fish Market - Main Photo

by Laura Martin Bacon

If anyone knows the historic secrets of San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf, it’s my friend Vince Rafello. This coastside cook combines a briny Sicilian-Portuguese pedigree with a fishing heritage that dates back nearly three centuries.

“We’re seafaring folks,” he tells me. “I’m pretty sure we’ve all got saltwater running through our veins.”

On a cool, windy coastal afternoon, I sit by the fire with Vince and his wife Ruth as he shares fond memories of a dockside childhood. I’m fascinated by his stories of happy years spent helping out at the family’s fish market – one of the first on Fisherman’s Wharf.

Rafello’s Fish Market was founded in 1915 by Vince’s grandfather, a local fisherman who ran the business with the help of his wife and two sons. Continue reading

Alf Bexfield: Harvesting a Century of Memories

01-Alf in Fields & at Home

by Laura Martin Bacon

There are few legacies as powerful and enduring as the one Alf Bexfield left to his family – and everyone with a passion for farming, innovation and growth. For over a century, he sowed and harvested the seeds of change, leaving our world a far better place when he passed on at the age of 101.

In celebration of what would have been his 102nd birthday, it’s a pleasure and privilege to add Alf’s story (originally published in the November 2012 Issue of the Wild River Review) to our Edible Legacies archives:

“It is unlikely that any generation in history has seen the changes that my generation has. I can vividly remember my dad, James Scarlet Bexfield, driving oxen – and here we are today with everything computerized and able to put a man on the moon. What a change in one man’s lifetime!”

At nearly 100 years old, Alf Bexfield is a vigorous man with a farmer’s strong hands, a twinkle in his blue eyes and a raconteur’s lilt in his voice. It’s not surprising that he seems to love music as much as farming – and that the down-home twang of Alf’s banjo has accompanied a long lifetime of adventures.

When you listen to Alf tell his stories, you realize how long a century truly is. Over ten of the most vibrant decades in North America’s history, Alf has witnessed the extraordinary journey from homesteads, covered wagons and living-off-the-land to a tech-savvy society charged by the superpowers of computers, cell phones and corporate-owned mega-farms.

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